


Dear Brother.

by TheRedHairFangirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fred Weasley Dies, Letter, Sad, Weasley twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 04:14:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12903792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedHairFangirl/pseuds/TheRedHairFangirl
Summary: George writes a letter to his dead twin.





	Dear Brother.

**Author's Note:**

> While editing this, I was listening to [Brother by Kodaline](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m6TXPNybrmk) over and over again. And the music video always tears me apart.

Fred. 

My twin, my sidekick, my other half. 

It still feels unreal from time to time. You’re not there anymore, when I’m still breathing. It seems impossible and abnormal, to have been born together, to have spent twenty years without ever being apart, but to die at different times. I wish I’d died instead of you. But it’s so selfish to think such a thing. Because you would have been the one left alone in this world, and I don’t wish that to anyone. This endless loneliness. This hard wakeup call every morning when sleep dared to make me forget for a few hours.  
I'm still looking for you, in the Burrow, or in the back shop. I know it’s stupid, thought.  
I can’t really smile anymore, and my jokes became rare, and nobody ever laugh at them. You used to be there and to laugh along with me, no matter how shitty they were. I miss our pranks as well.

The house feels so empty without you, or maybe I feel empty. Even if everything was rebuilt after the fire, exactly as it used to be, nothing is the same. Nothing will ever be the same.

Sometimes I walk into your room, and it’s like… everything is bloody like we rebuilt it. And it kills me. Because you don’t get to mess things in it anymore. You don’t get to make mother scream out your name because your room is a mess and your bed is unmade. It’s the room of a ghost. An empty room. Mother wanted that, because I feel maybe sometimes she needs to remember you, and this place is hers to do so. But I wished they hadn’t done that. Because it somehow hurt so much more than it does good, at least to me.

Charlie came home for a whole month. Can you imagine? Yes, he came for your funeral. He came to spend time with us. And I know I shouldn’t feel like this, but I’m so mad at him to have needed such a thing to come back. I mean, when was the last time we’d seen him? Yes, he has his life in Romania, and mother was really happy he could make it. To me, it was the least he could do. We lost a brother.  
Bill and Fleur were there too, of course. The Burrow should have been full of life considering the number of people who were spending time in it. Yet, nothing was like you knew it, Freddy. It’s like you were the light of the house and we’d ran out of electricity. It starts to be quite a long time in the dark, thought.  
Ginny can’t stop crying. I never saw her like that. I would cry with her if I didn’t dry myself out every night. I just hug her as much as I can, and I wait for her to stop crying, but it takes a long time, every time.

I’m sorry, brother, but in fact, sometimes I think I’m mad at you, too. You left me. And sometimes it’s too much and I’m… I’m mad, because you couldn’t keep your promise. You’re not here anymore, and that wasn’t part of the plan. I’m sure you never meant to leave, that if you had the choice you would still be here, but still. You’re not here anymore. And when I feel like that towards you, I quickly realize I’m actually not mad at you, but at the rest of the world. At myself. Because I didn’t tell you enough I loved you. I love you. We didn’t tell each other that, because it was obvious. But we should have said it more often, really.

At your funeral, I was the one who stayed the longest next to you. I couldn’t… I just couldn’t leave you there. Mom was next to me for a long time, though. When it was only us two, next to you, when she was still crying and I had this bloody hole in my chest that is still here no matter the time passing, I finally let out a tear. It was the first of many, and I’m sorry about that, because if you were here you would punch me in the face because I’m crying over you. Mom got her arm tangled in mine and she dropped her head on my shoulder. She apologies several time, her voice broken. She apologies because she couldn’t save you. She told me it was awful, dreadful, traumatic, to loose a child, and that she didn’t wish that to anyone in the whole universe. Because it wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. But she added that she knew it was even harder and more dreadful to me because I had lost the other part of me, the one that made me full. And I promise you I tried so, so hard not to cry even more, not to do so in front of her because that would break her even more. But it was so impossible. I looked at her and said that, at least now, she wouldn’t have trouble telling us apart. It was a horrible thing to say at the moment, but she smiled because she recognized our favorite joke. I smiled too, and we both knew it was our way to say goodbye. At least, on the paper.

The other night, we celebrated Dad’s birthday. We all settled around the table, and mom somehow asked me why you weren’t coming down. When she realized what she was saying, she started to cry and had to leave the table to calm down, apologizing without stopping. The meal was quite silent after that. We kind of always eat in silence since you left, in fact. It was probably not the best birthday of Dad’s life, obviously. Nothing is the best anymore, anyway.

Sometimes, I can’t help but to wear, just for a second, one of your ‘F’ pullover. One of those mom made. But I can’t get out of my room, so I don’t hurt her even more. I just look in the mirror, and I can see you. Until I realize I’m crazy, and you’re still not here.

Sometimes, I just stop in the middle of talking and wait for you to end what I was saying, and when I look for you, I then remember. I don’t get it, actually, how, despite the constant hurt and the hole in my chest, I can forget for a short time you’re not here.

Sometimes, I close my eyes and I dream of you. We’re in Hogwarts pranking Flinch or Snape. We’re in the shop, making our new products. We’re on our broomsticks in the middle of a Quidditch match. And I’m happy, Fred. I’m so happy. And then the morning comes, and I open my eyes and face the truth. And the air seems unbreathable.

I miss you, Freddy, this is horrible, the constant pain, this constant missing, this hole in my chest. To know that I’ll never see your eyes shine again. To know that I’ll never hear the sound of your laugh meddling with mine again. To know that I’ll never make a prank to Percy or Ron with you again.

It shouldn’t have ended up this way. No one will ever make me believe that it was supposed to happen this way. That it was written.  
What was written was you and me both. Together, until the very end. Not me, staying here without you. We should have got married at the same time, have had children at the same time and have taught them about all the good things of life. But now that we’re here, what do I do, uh? You tell me? 

I know. I know I shouldn’t mope like that. Or maybe I should. After all, it affected me, why shouldn’t I be allowed to never recover from it? Oh, Fred, I don’t care if you disagree. You should have stayed, and then I would have listened.  
Ok, I’m sorry about that. But you were selfish, leaving me here. You left, and you broke me. You took my soul with you, you left my body there. You killed me too, in fact. So to be completely honest, I’m not sure that one day, I’ll feel better. I don’t know if the pain will fade with time, if I’ll smile again one day and mean it. Maybe the others will. Percy, Charlie, Bill, Ron and Ginny. Maybe one day they will. Because loosing a brother is horrible, but loosing a twin is so much worse. And no, I’m not ashamed to feel like this. Because your leaving changed me, Freddy. 

And here I am, heart-broken, writing you a stupid letter you’ll never read and that I’ll burn right after I cried so much my eyes themselves are burning. If there was a way this pain could end, Fred… This is horrible, because I love you beyond everything people could even begin to imagine, but right now, all I wish is for this pain to stop. That for a few seconds, I don’t feel empty anymore. No more constant feeling of crying either. But it is the price to pay because I survived and you didn’t.

I’m sorry, thought. Really. I’m sorry the whole thing is a mess and I can’t live without you.  
I love you.

Whole heartedly next to you, forever.  
George.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. I'm so so so so sorry for this. I hope you're okay right now, because I surely am not. It's so short thought, I'm still having doubts about posting it, because I'm not sure it's worth it. Yes, I'm aware it is posted now, don't mind my weirdness.  
> I wrote that so long ago, and I have mixed feeling about it, to be honest. It could be so much better but in fact I think I don't have the words since I can't imagine loosing someone like that. I still am so not okay with the twin being apart.  
> I was asked to write the answer of Fred to George and maybe one day I will post it.  
> So yeah, this is a crapy tribute to my two favourite Weasley boys. Hope you liked it anyway.  
>  _"I’m sorry the whole thing is a mess"_ is more of a me to you thing than a real George to Fred thing in fact.  
>  (Also I'm aware this might not be an original idea and that similar and much better written things like that are on the internet, this is just... My version of it.)
> 
> Sorry if there are mistakes, I'm French. Doing my best, though.  
> Thanks for being here!  
> S.


End file.
